“I’ve known Jesse since he was born, and his mom is my best friend. Best friends tell each other everything.”
“So I’ve been told,” Ella said under her breath, recalling the mini-lecture from Rory and Savanna that morning before Henry Rochella had shown up with a too-good-to-be-true offer.
Her mom palmed Ella’s cheek. “Not every family is as perfect as they let everyone think. And in this social media age, I think everyone now has the capability of photoshopping all the bad stuff out to make things picture-perfect.”
What was that supposed to mean? What cryptic insanity was this? What happened to Jesse? “Mom, tell me.”
“Not my secret to share. Just don’t be so fast to judge Jesse is all I’m saying.” She pulled her hand away and turned, and Ella followed her mom’s gaze to see Jesse striding toward the stables. “Well, looks like someone else wants to have a talk with you. Does he know about Paris?”
“Not yet.” Her shoulders fell at the idea of being alone with him for the second time today. She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to be mad at him.
Also, what in Sam Hill had her mom been talking about?
“Supper is in thirty. Your ride better be short.” Her mom waved to Jesse as she exited the stables.
“Ma’am,” Jesse said with a respectful tip of his head, removing his cowboy hat in the process.
He’d cleaned up since that morning. His slightly wild dark blond hair, more brown than blond except in the summer, was pushed back away from his face with gel. He had on a button-up jean shirt with black denim jeans and his dark cowboy boots. When Jesse’s eyes locked on to Ella’s face, he repositioned his black hat.
“I assume you decided to come to dinner,” she said, placing her left foot in the stirrup and mounting her horse with ease, deciding she’d rather get in some riding than talk to Jesse right now.
With the reins held loosely, she rested her hands atop the horn of the saddle and gave Jesse a look that conveyed in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over before it’d even begun.
“Can you wait? I need to talk to you.” He looked up at her from his stance next to Lady’s head and began to reach out, but Lady, as if sensing Ella’s irritation, pulled her muzzle away with a snort.
Good girl.
Ella snapped her eyes shut. Jesse had whispered good girl to her during their spicier encounters that weekend in New York. His hot voice had flowed over the shell of her ear every time she’d obeyed his command not to orgasm until he’d given her permission.
Yeah, she needed to find that inner fireball and fast before she floundered in a pool of drool at the memories of his hot naked body on top of hers.
“Ella, this is important.” Jesse’s growly voice stole her attention from the past.
“I have something important to share too. But you can hear the news at supper with everyone else.” At that moment, she had two choices. Go to Paris until June or stay in Alabama and pine for a man who’d never commit. So, she’d accept Henry’s offer and somehow make the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity work with her teaching job.
“What news? Tell me now.” There was desperation in his voice, and it was only then that she noticed something was off. More off than normal too. He looked . . . scared. That wasn’t a look she was used to seeing him wear.
He approached her mare again, and Ella was grateful the stables were empty of any of the ranch hands right now. Or her brothers.
A.J. was somewhere on the property with his wife and baby. And Rory and her husband, Chris, were there. Savanna and Griffin. Her brothers Caleb, Shep, and Beckett were moseying around somewhere too. Then there was Beckett’s daughter, McKenna. They had a full house today.
“We’ll talk after my ride. Not here,” Ella decided, then let Lady know she was ready to ride, and Lady swiftly maneuvered around their roadblock, Jesse.
“Wait. Don’t go,” Jesse hollered, but she didn’t bother to look back.
Move forward. Keep going forward.
Once on a trail and far enough away from the stables, she had Lady pick up her speed a little. At the sound of hoofs behind her, she tossed a quick look back to see Jesse on one of their Arabian horses. Of course, Jesse was barebacking it. No saddle. Jesse had the skills to ride like that, but it’d quickly fatigue both him and the horse. Right now, she cared a lot more about the horse than the jerk riding him.
“What do you think, Lady? Do we stop and see what that jackass wants?” At least her anger was back. Her preferred mood when dealing with said jackass.
Ella slowed and had Lady quickly turn and stop in her tracks to face Jesse closing in on them. “You act like I’m in danger. I grew up around cowboys. I know how to ride,” she said once he closed the gap. “I’m safe.”
“No, you’re not safe,” he damn near barked out, and why did she get the feeling he wasn’t talking about riding right now.
He got off his horse and offered her a hand to dismount. She stared at him, her thoughts swirling in the chilly breeze.
“It’s nippy out here.” She rolled that word around in her mouth a time or two, avoiding the six-foot-one tower of frustration waiting for her. “Nippy. Ha. You know, I just now realized why people say that when it’s cold outside,” she tossed out while peering down at her open jean jacket, finding her nipples standing at attention and quite noticeable behind the lace bra and top. Great.
“Ella, please.” There was that sense of urgency in his tone again.
“Did Rory tell you about Paris?” Ella sputtered. “Did she tell you about Henry?” That had to be why he was acting like a lunatic. Maybe Rory had an angry encounter with her brother, and it accidentally slipped out?
“Paris?” Jesse slowly pulled his hand back, removed his hat, and clutched it to his chest as if he’d just learned someone had unexpectedly died, a solemn look crossing his face. Until that look transformed into one of anger. “Who the hell is Henry?”
Ella let go of a deep exhalation, patted Lady’s neck, and swung her right leg over the saddle to step down. But when Jesse’s hands landed on her hips to assist her, she went still. “Please don’t touch me,” she said softly. Her anger had suddenly morphed into uncertainty, and she hated that it made her sound weak.
Jesse released her and waited for her to face him. “I need to know what you’re talking about now. Not at supper.”
“I’ve been offered an opportunity of a lifetime to go to Paris. A fashion, um, thing.” God, with his heated gaze crushing her under its fierce intensity, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get through this. While she rambled off the details Henry had told her that morning, Jesse slowly narrowed the space between them to mere inches, then drew his hand in the air as if he were tracing the contour of her cheek without actually touching her.
He stared at her for another long, quiet moment. “You can’t go.”
“I’m sorry. I think I just hallucinated.” She also thought she might be channeling Reese Witherspoon as Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, so she kept on going. “You don’t have any say about what I do, Jesse McAdams. And I don’t recall asking for your permission.”
His lips twitched, and he leaned forward, hat still at his chest as he angled his head, holding her eyes. “You. Are. Not. Going,” he said darkly, his voice thick with intent. The “do not cross me” kind, which would most definitely be dangerous for anyone else. She considered him harmless. Well, aside from crumpling her heart like a piece of trash.